Photo Prompt OneShots
by newmoonaholic
Summary: A series of one-shots written for the Part-Time PicPrompters section of the Photo Prompt Writing Challenge found at ppprompters . blogspot . com
1. Post 1: Destiny Road

This is a one-shot written for the Part-Time PicPrompters section of the Photo Prompt Challenge found at ppprompters(.)blogspot(.)com

Special thanks to Hev99 for getting me started and Beta'ing. I love you loads girl!

And a big thank you to Nostalgicmiss, the queen of amazing, for allowing me to participate.

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**Destiny Road **

The crisp, autumn air bit my cheeks and quickly chilled the hot tears that relentlessly flowed, as I rode my bike down the familiar path. My tires spun furiously, kicking up and displacing the vibrant orange and yellow offerings of the tired trees that stood as sentinels on the sides of the road. This route, that only a few days ago held such joy, was now a harsh reminder that autumn comes for everyone. Leaves change and fall to the ground when they are their most brilliant and beautiful. Just as the souls of the ones we love wither and float away when they are their most enchanting.

My breath hitched as I slowed to take the final curve that would open to the sight I dreaded and longed for all at once. The lake, placid and peaceful, held my heart hostage as the uneven cobblestones rattled my tense frame. Only after I stopped completely, did I realize that my body shook of its own accord.

This morning, like all the others before, held a majestic quiet that echoed through the mist. The soft sound of the water lapping at the rocks was like a natural lullaby that soothed the soul. I wish I had been able to understand the draw to this place sooner. So much time had been lost through my ignorance.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to chase away reality and for one more day, just one, open my eyes to see him there. Sitting, to the left side of the bench overlooking the lake, as he had everyday for the last twenty years. For much of it, there was a lady to his right. But not in five years time. The cancer that stole him from the earth, had stolen her already.

I can still see him there, watching the birds with intense fascination as they squawked and fought over one small scrap of food. I imagine his seat is still warm and his peppermint and soap scent hangs in the air. Tugging my coat around me tighter, I take my first walk to this hallowed bench alone. He had always been there, beckoning me to join him and to hear the stories of his youth. The adventures were almost too fantastic to believe, but my youthful exuberance and hero worship had me hanging on every word and begging, "please Grandpa, tell me more."

His responding chuckle would warm me like the summer sun, and I would be engulfed in another fantastic tale. I think my favorite though, was when he would tell how he met my grandmother. It was the most tame of his stories, but the most heartfelt as he told of the day he traveled the same road as I had just travelled this morning, for the countless time and had his life irrevocably altered.

_It was bright out; much brighter than usual, and the sun blinded me from time to time as it peeked between the thinning branches. The road, already littered with autumn's cast offs, was so familiar to me that it greeted me like an old friend. The sputter of the playing card in the spokes of my bicycle tire sliced through the silent morning with precision, announcing the arrival of another carefree day. It was joy, in its simplest form. To be so young and untainted by the world. To fly with the birds and run on the wind. So open and so free. _

_I was so enveloped in my freedom, however, that I almost missed the sweetest sight these eyes have ever seen. She was a vision of beauty as she sat lazily under the tall oak. As I got closer though, I could see that her posture was not so much lazy as it was defeated. Adrenaline laced panic surged through my veins as I hastened in desperation to see what could possibly be tormenting such an angel. _

_The steady cadence of my tortured playing card announced my arrival, and she glanced up with such hope in her eyes that I found myself instantly vowing to see her happy for the rest of our lives. Our greetings were shy and awkward as we each seemed mesmerized by the other. She indicated to her bicycle, and I had to work to tear my eyes away from her long enough to take in the flat tire that had stranded her. Ever so slowly though, our trances lifted and our conversation began to flow with ease. Such ease in fact, that it was only her shiver that indicated the lateness of the hour. And once again I found myself on the familiar road. But this time I walked, carrying on my back with pride, the mangled catalyst to my destiny. _

My tears were gone now, for no other reason than I was no longer capable of producing them, as I sat and stared out across the water. His presence was strong there, much stronger than amongst the mourners back home with their endless stream of sympathies. I don't want those. I want him.

Drawing my knees up under my chin, I hugged my legs with vigor, clinging to the tiny comfort it provided. Time seemed to stand still, and yet I knew it wouldn't. And as the sun began to finally break through the clouds that had it trapped, I was startled by a throat being cleared behind me. Stunned, I looked up and into the most enchanting blue eyes. They held wonder and concern, as their owner cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Are you ok?" he gently asked.

"Not really, no." I rasped out in reply.

"May I sit with you?"

A nod was all I could muster, and he slid gracefully in next to me. The silence was comfortable for a while, but soon he began making benign comments and asking simple questions. He never pried, or said anything that was remotely intrusive, and before long I actually found myself laughing a bit and enjoying our easy conversation.

The sun eventually began to lose it's battle with the clouds, and I knew I needed to go home. I could face it now. I knew I could.

The familiar path greeted me once again, but this time with hope. Hope for renewed joy and amazing adventures. Hope for a future enhanced by the past. Hope for love, true and deep. My grandfather's time was done. But as my destiny now walked beside me, I knew that _my_ time had only just begun.


	2. Post 2: Four

**Disclaimer****: SM owns all things Twilight. I own the rest.**

**A/N: This is a one-shot written for the Part-Time PicPrompters section of the Photo Prompt Writing Challenge blog found at ppprompters(.)blogspot(.)com**

**If you wanna see the pics, check out the blog. And while you're there, check out the amazing full time prompters. They so totally rock!**

**Special thanks to Hev99 for pre-reading, Beta'ing, and putting up with me. She's my girl and I love her! :)**

**Also a huge thank you to Nostalgicmiss for running the blog, letting me participate, and general all-purpose awesomeness!**

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**Four**

The number four has always been a reoccurring theme in my life. I'm not sure why, but when you're me, you don't question such simple things. My sister, Alice, has always told me that the number four is lucky for me. And for the most part she was right, especially since it played such a big part in meeting her.

Like anyone else, most of my early childhood memories are fuzzy and incomplete. A jagged puzzle of early youth, that's impossible to complete without photographs and parental recollections. But I do have one memory that is about as clear as any memory can possibly be; the day she came into my life.

It was my fourth birthday. I was so excited to tear into my presents and devour the sugar trifecta of cake, ice cream and fruit punch. But my grandma kept telling me that I had to wait for my parents, who were bringing home a special present. I stomped my little foot in petulance and impatience. As far as I was concerned, you snooze-you lose when it comes to cake, so I just couldn't see why we had to wait.

I soon heard the familiar crunch of gravel as my dad's car pulled into the driveway. Running for the door, I threw it open to see my parents exiting the car, my mother carrying a large, bulky blanket.

"Daddy! Daddy!" I sang, as I leaped into his waiting arms. He laughed and twirled me around before carrying me into the house on his shoulders. Once inside, he sat down on the couch and positioned me on his lap, as my mother sat beside us with her bundle.

"Bella?" My mother began. "We have someone we want you to meet." She pulled back the blanket and I was met with a mess of brown hair and big, brown eyes. She looked at me, mirroring my own curiosity. This was the strangest doll I had ever seen, and being unable to resist the urge to touch her, I slowly raised my chubby, little hand and advanced one finger towards her cheek. But just before I poked her, she suddenly displayed a full set of teeth and sank them into my outstretched finger. The sharp pain raced up my arm and out my mouth with such a cry that the doll immediately released my smashed digit, and began a howling of her own.

"Dolly bit me!" I wailed, as my father tried to soothe me. Not only did I feel the physical pain in my finger, my feelings were hurt too. I couldn't understand why my new dolly would want to hurt me. After a time, when I was sufficiently pacified, my father explained.

"Bella, honey, this isn't a dolly. This is Alice, your new sister. She's three years old."

Tears returned to my eyes, only this time in disappointment. "But I wanted a dolly for my birthday!"

It took about two days before Alice and I were completely inseparable. And although I always maintained a healthy respect for her teeth, she and I could not have been any closer. We did everything together. We shopped together, went to summer camp together, toilet papered the cranky neighbor's house together, and even insisted any guy that wanted to ask one of us out, have a friend so that we could double. Alice took care of me when I fell and broke my arm, and I held her while she cried, after she finally realized that she couldn't actually see the future.

Because of how our birthdays fell, we were placed in the same grade in school. I was on the older end of the class and she was on the younger, but all we cared about was that we were together.

"Hey, Alice?" I asked, as I admired my cap and gown in the mirror. "What if someday, something happens and we can't be together anymore?"

Without missing a beat, and only as Alice could, she flippantly replied, "Keep asking questions like that, and we're gonna find out."

Alice always knew what to say, and though her snarky mouth had gotten us into trouble more times than I could count over the years, it talked us out of even more, so I couldn't complain.

On our fourth day on campus at the University of Washington, I literally walked into my future. As we walked up the steps to the library, a big chunk of air caught on my shoe and sent me flying into a bronze haired god. The deep blush in my cheeks made my mortification obvious as he steadied me on my feet, which was only magnified as Alice spoke up.

"Bella, how many times do I have to tell you not to wrestle with the air? It wins every time!" Alice rolled her eyes dramatically, before addressing the stunned Adonis that was still holding me up. "Please excuse my sister, we have her and her feet in couple's therapy, but they still can't find a way to get along." Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"Please excuse _my_ sister, her mute button broke when she was five and she hasn't shut up since. I'm Bella by the way." I extended my hand to the now highly amused upperclassman.

"Edward," was his simple reply, as he took my hand and flashed a perfect set of gleaming, white teeth through a slightly crooked smile. If I would have died right there, I would've happily gone with this image in my mind. "And this is my friend, Jasper." He indicated to his left and his previously unnoticed, yet oh so yummy, friend stepped forward.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Jasper drawled, in his sweet Texas charm.

Lightning struck twice that day, and four years almost to the day later, Alice and I walked down the aisle. Our proud father in the middle, with each of us linked through one of his arms, as he escorted his girls to their destinies. Our twosome became a foursome and life moved forward in joy and love.

At age twenty-eight, I sobbed on my sister's trembling shoulder as the doctor explained my prognosis. Without immediate treatment, I had four months to live. With treatment, I still had no guarantees.

"How am I going to tell Edward?" I wept.

Alice gripped my shoulders tightly, shaking me slightly and forcing me to look into her eyes. They were fierce and full of determination.

"Now you listen to me, Isabella. We are going to fight this with everything we have. We are a team and we will never give up. You will live, and we will bounce grandbabies on our laps and take geezer cruises with the two most handsome older men you have ever seen. Do you understand me?" I nodded slightly, before she brought her forehead to rest on mine. "Besides," she continued, wearing her trademark smirk. "After your surgery, we'll have a whole new meaning for buy one, get one half off bra sales."

I didn't know if I should laugh at her or smack her, so I settled on both.

"Ow!" she protested, before being consumed in my laughter. I'm quite sure the doctor was looking up a psych consult for us, but that just made it funnier.

True to her word, we fought. She cared for me after my mastectomy, and drove me to my chemotherapy appointments when Edward couldn't. She cried with me when the nausea became overwhelming and kept me laughing when it wasn't.

It was a beautiful sunny day, a rarity here in Seattle, when Alice showed up to drive me to yet another appointment. She let herself in, as usual, but this time she had a surprise for me.

"Alice? Your hair! You cut it off?" Alice had some of the most gorgeous long brown hair I had ever seen. It had a slight wave to it and was always so silky. But now it was short and sort of exploded all over her head in an array of spikes. I had to admit, she's probably the only one who could pull it off, and she actually looked quite adorable.

"Well," she began, sounding nervous. "The wig maker called and said that there wasn't quite enough of your hair for a proper wig, so I kinda went and gave him some of mine. They can dye it to match. You'll never notice."

I couldn't speak. She had always been so proud of her hair, and with good reason. My throat closed around a lump; my nose stung and my vision blurred. This was, without a doubt, the single most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.

"Oh stop blubbering," she suddenly ordered, her voice betraying her attempt at sternness with a slight quiver. "It's only hair. I can grow more, but I can't grow another you."

That did it. The floodgates were open now, and we exhausted ourselves into a mess of tears, snot and swollen faces. Yeah, I said it. We had the ugly cry.

A few months later, Alice surprised me again. The four of us were out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. Alice and I now both sported the same spiky hair. She had kept hers, she said, so that we could grow our hair back out together. We had just finished our main course, when the waiter returned with a small round cake. There was a single candle blazing away in the center, and when I looked at Alice, she simply smiled with shining eyes and mouthed, "That's one." I hadn't even realized what today was until that moment. I had received my prognosis exactly one year prior to that day. I had made it eight months longer than he said, and I felt as though I was getting stronger everyday.

"Are you ready to go, Bella?" Alice called impatiently. The previous night, I had been presented with a four candled cake, and now Alice and I were preparing to leave on a three hour drive, back to visit our childhood home.

"Just one sec," I called back, before returning my attention to Edward's lips. Ten years of marriage and I still could not get enough of that man. Reluctantly, I pulled away.

"Hurry back to me," he whispered into my now long, flowing hair.

"Always," I replied, giving him one more chaste peck, before running out to the car where my oh-so-subtle sister was laying on the horn in her impatience.

"Alright already! Jeez! Let's go!" I huffed, as she floored the gas in her typical kamikaze style of driving.

The ride was pleasant when Alice wasn't terrifying me with her driving. She's the only person I know who can make something as benign as a lane change seem like a life or death ordeal. But we made it, and as we passed the welcome sign on the outskirts of town, I was instantly flooded with nostalgia. Our parents had retired to Phoenix a couple of years ago, but even without them here, there was still a strong sense of home.

We drove through the town, stopping to chat along the way with some old friends of the family. We ate at the local diner, and visited the store owner that gave us our first jobs. There was a peace here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was calming and cathartic.

Continuing our tour, we stopped at the old oak that stood regally at the edge of a vast meadow overlooking the town. The wildflowers were in full bloom, the setting sun illuminating the brilliant yellows and purples.

"No way!" Alice exclaimed, pulling me from my reverie. "Check it out! I can't believe it's still here."

I walked around to where she stood and sure enough, a very familiar scar in the bark stood out. It was the simple carving of two twelve year old girls and it simply said, "I.S. + A.S. = SISTERS FOREVER".

"C'mon, Bella. It's been four years. Let's celebrate."

Alice grabbed my hand and led me out into the meadow we played in as children. For a moment, we pranced through the flowers without a care in the world, laughing and reminiscing as we went. And as we approached the center, the secret spy headquarters of our youth, Alice suddenly lifted our intertwined hands triumphantly into the air, giggling and yelling.

"Four years! And this is just the beginning!"

I laughed at her typical over-enthusiasm, but also teared up as I was suddenly overwhelmed with love and life. I had so much to be grateful for. I'd had more love in my thirty-two years than most people get in ninety, and I owed most of it to the person standing beside me. My rock, my co-conspirator, my best friend. I could have never imagined that the dolly who cried when she bit my finger would now, twenty-nine years later, be crying as we said our final goodbyes. She was my angel in life, and now I would be hers in death.

Four months after our trip home, I was told that I was no longer in remission. This time, there would be no fight. This time, it would win.

I gazed up into the faces of the two people I loved most in the world, willing their tears away. Leaving them was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had already stolen four years. Four of the most precious years of my life. Not many people get a second chance like I did. A chance to live a little fuller, and love a little deeper. To truly understand the delicate gift of life, and share it with the most amazing people. But I was tired now, and it was time to go.

"Please don't cry for me. You've given me the best life anyone could ever hope for. I will always be watching over you. I love you both so much."

Using the last of my strength, I reached up and pulled bronze and brown haired heads to my chest. I kissed them both...and closed my eyes.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! :)**


	3. Post 3: Quiet Reflections

**Disclaimer****: SM owns all things Twilight. I own the rest.**

**A/N: This is a one-shot written for the Part-Time PicPrompters section of the Photo Prompt Writing Challenge blog found at ppprompters(.)blogspot(.)com**

**If you wanna see the pics, check out the blog. And while you're there, check out the amazing full time prompters. They so totally rock!**

**Special thanks to _Hev99_ for pre-reading and Beta'ing. For more on her see the note at the bottom. ;)**

**Also a huge thank you to _Nostalgicmiss_ for running the blog, letting me participate, putting up with my extra-neediness while Bob is gone, and general all-purpose awesomeness!**

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**Quiet Reflections**

I have been waiting a while now for the earth to wake up. The fresh morning air, thick with dew, feels almost heavy in my lungs as it cleanses and helps awaken my senses. Nearby, the forest is slowly coming to life as the faintest hint of light bleeds across the sky. The squirrels are dancing through the trees, leaping and scurrying. Their quick, jerky movements seem too chaotic amid the morning's calm. But the sweet chirping and singing of the birds is a soothing, natural antidote to the antics of the squirrels. On the horizon, brilliant pinks and oranges are heralding trumpets, announcing the arrival of the sun, and foretelling of a new day.

When Jacob had asked me to come along on this heritage journey, I had no idea how much I needed to be here. I won't lie, the thought of spending three weeks wearing native tribal garb, sleeping in teepees, and getting in touch with a culture that was not my own seemed completely ridiculous. But now that I was here, I could not be more grateful. I had no idea how much the stress of my life was affecting me, or how blind I had been about some things.

I had loved Edward with my whole being. He was my world, my sun, and my moon. And when he left me, he took all the light with him. I wandered alone in the dark for months, unable to sleep, eat, or even think. It hurt to open my eyes everyday, and breathing brought the agony of expanding the wound in my chest where my heart used to be. But as I fill my lungs with yet another breath of a new day, I can open my eyes fully to the beauty that surrounds me, and draw strength from the earth itself. Jacob taught me that. He taught me how to draw energy from my environment. That the elements flow through us and work for us. He taught me how to heal.

This has become my favorite time of day. It's the only time the camp is quiet. There are ten teepees in all, set in a circular pattern, and giving a wide berth to the large fire pit in the center. Jacob and his tribal brothers are never satisfied unless the evening bonfire is at least eight feet high, which is five feet higher than I'm comfortable with, but their childlike joy in their nightly accomplishment is too endearing to complain. In this secluded location, it is easy to see how the innate pride in their lineage flows through them like water through the mountain.

Water. So tranquil in the trickling steam, yet it holds the power to carve the earth. It has created great gorges, washes the land, and gives life to all creatures. In the distance, I can hear the river as it flows. It's gentle caress, slowly smoothing and shaping the rocks as it has done for centuries.

A light breeze kisses my cheeks, as the air bids me good morning. I breathe deeply again, allowing it to consume, and heal me inside. The air has the power to crush a mighty tree, and sting the skin with bitterness. But it can also lightly stroke the flower and hold the bird in its gentle hand. It surrounds us constantly, sometimes a heavy presence, and sometimes an invisible friend. It feeds the fire, moves the water, and hugs the earth.

I reach down and scoop up a handful of soil, allowing it to trickle through my fingers. Mother Earth. Our home, our origin, our destination. Rich soil brings life sustaining nutrients, and the land provides all we need to build shelter. It shakes when it is angry, yet loves us enough to provide us with what we need to survive when the air, the fire, and the water are vexed. The pure smell of this iron rich soil combines with the raw, woodsy scent of surrounding forest, to clear my mind and pacify my soul.

Before I came here, the only element I recognized was fire. It ran through my veins, blinding me with such pain that all I wanted was an end. I wanted it to devour me, turn me to ash and allow the wind to carry me away. It assaulted me day after terrible day, controlling my thoughts and rendering me useless in my darkness.

But I was not meant to burn, and Jacob squelched the flames with his noble heart and gentle ways. He was my compass, guiding me through the dark until our journey brought me here...to the dawn of a new day, and a new life. I understand now that I was following an unnatural path before. I had allowed myself to become so wrapped up in someone who could never give me what I needed to survive. Instead, he bled me until I was dry and flammable, and then he lit the match. But I no longer fear the fire. I understand that it has a very sensible purpose. It guides us, sometimes gently and sometimes harshly, away from those things which are bad for us. And it also cleanses us, allowing us to rise anew like a phoenix; stronger than before, and more wise.

I raise my eyes to the east and greet the sun as it peeks above the mountains, bathing my face with its tender warmth and embracing me as an old friend. I missed my friend in the darkness. Though he knocked many times, the fire had melted the locks on my prison door sealing me in. I shudder slightly at the memory, but am instantly soothed by the breath of the wind in my hair, the tenderness of the sun on my cheeks, the song of the river, and the embrace of the earth below me. And as I hear Jacob's tender voice, thick with sleep, offer me a simple "Mornin', Beautiful," I can't help the small smile that plays on my lips. His warm embrace envelopes me from behind, and I am instantly filled with the joy and peace that comes from knowing that I now walk my natural path.

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**_A/N: This was written for my amazing friend _Hev99_, and is being posted in honor of her birthday. The world has been little warmer, the light a little brighter, and love a little more attainable ever since Bob graced the world with her presence on this day. She knows what it means to be a true friend, and I know what it means to be blessed by her friendship. I love you loads, Bob! Happy Birthday! :)_**


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